


Banana Slam-a Jammin' 2: Electric Boogaloo

by loquaciouslass



Series: The Banana Trilogy [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Comedy, Humor, M/M, Sharing a Bed, and hylia's just there for the ride where she throws lightning at people for a laugh, graphic banana content, its electric because there's a storm, link knows he's pretty and will exploit it for giggles, master kohga is so full of confusion and hate, still no boning tho sorry, well technically sharing a cave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciouslass/pseuds/loquaciouslass
Summary: It’s been a week since the...incident at the Yiga Hideout. The ninja are distracted and failing their jobs. It’s time for Master Kohga to take matters into his own hands.And possibly his ass.





	

Master Kohga loved his clan, he really did. He loved their devotion and youthful cheer, he loved how they cheered each other on to kill the hero. He loved how resourceful they were, how clever and daring, but once all those qualities were stripped away, well…

 

Master Kohga looked upon his clan of sighing, giggling ninja and hung his head in despair. The plan to humiliate and kill the hero, sparking morale in all his bright bundles of joy had failed so _miserably_ that he couldn’t even just call it a failure. It was a disaster, a catastrophe, an _apocalyptically_ _bad fuck-up_ of astronomical proportions. Because instead of bright and cheery troops that would slay the few forces that remained against Ganon...they were sighing. Cooing. Giggling. 

 

_ Blushing.  _

 

It was terrible. One mishap of a thoroughly flawless plan and his whole force was useless against the one thing they’d trained against. They’d learnt to flatter and flay and parry and hide. They hadn’t learnt how to avoid ‘heroic charms’. Baby blues and blinding blond. How irritating was that? He’d never thought that something like this could happen, a simple suck and bite letting out an explosion of hormones. 

 

Or maybe it was more than hormones, because the swordsmasters were all giggling as well. It was becoming a problem. 

 

Something had to be done. Immediately. 

 

But what? None of his soldiers were up to the task. He could hardly risk going out himself- there were plenty of Sheikah out for Kohga blood. And he had a lot of naps to catch up on, what with all the education recently. 

 

He really didn’t want to think about how many times Magdal needed to be told  _ not _ to stick his junk in chuchus with all those burns. He shuddered at the memory. Maybe it’d be worth hiring a few medics from outside the clan, just to make sure they didn’t all fuck themselves to death in a wild teenage party…

 

Not the point though! The point, at the moment, was that his clan had taken to  _ heroic charms _ and Master Kohga needed to put a stop to it. The hero was clearly some sort of menace even without being blessed by the goddesses and taking out most of the bokoblin population. Sure, they came back, but it was the principle of the thing. So he thought and thought, occasionally groaning as the three foot-soldiers came back with the hero’s  _ hood _ of all things. What were they planning? God, in the name of the  _ Calamity,  _ he didn’t want to walk into any wild teenage parties. Especially not with the hero. 

 

But what to  _ do? _ There was no easy solution. 

 

“This thing’s pretty good quality,” he heard one of them say, “man, he must’ve spent some time getting this adjusted…” 

 

“I know right? It was funny to see him squawk. Do you think he’ll come looking?” 

 

“Pfft, I wish. I’m just glad we saw that pretty hair…” 

 

“His tummy’s pretty shitty though.” 

 

“Yeah, but the hair makes up for it-”

 

“ _ That’s it!” _ Master Kohga said, clapping his hands together and dispelling the despair that clouded around his head. “Magdal! Matma! Maho!” 

 

The three froze, dropping the hood and saluting him. 

 

“You three! Send out a message on behalf of Master Kohga! We’re changing tactics!” 

 

He rubbed his hands together, grinning under the mask. “We,” he said, “Are going to set up a hunt for a naked hero…” 

  
  


It was the perfect crime. The perfect mixture of humiliation, possible death, and putting all those wild teenage hormones to good use. A slow-burn, sauteeing the onions of evil to a caramelised fiendishness, making the eventual meal of one naked and maybe dead hero all the more delicious. 

 

Kohga did think he needed to rephrase the last part, but he didn’t care. The plan was working. 

 

Over the weeks, his delightful clan brought in clothes. Sweaty clothes, dyed clothes, upgraded clothes and clothes that ended up drenched in blood as Magdal got in-between the hero, a lynel and a Zora Tunic. 

 

That was almost worse than the Fire Chuchu incident. Almost. 

 

Because this was  _ working. _

 

Kohga laughed amid the pile of clothes stolen straight off the hero’s back from all over the world. Stranded in the cold with no shirt, in the heat without the cooling sapphires, above mountains and oceans and it was  _ wonderful.  _ The Yiga were working towards their hero-killing goal again! A little slower and less reliably, sure, but still. Any progress was better than none. 

 

And they’d stopped flirting with the hero boy as much, which was wonderful because he probably had some sort of disease from eating raw meat. Kohga just had to wait for the cold or the heat to kill him. 

 

He probably wouldn’t even be able to come to claim them, given that Kohga had all his snowquill gear. It really was quite cosy. Kohga smiled and sighed, plucking a banana from his pile and peeling it. What a wonderful day. 

 

Until he heard the crash. And the scream. 

 

And the bomb.

 

Kohga lept into action, dashing through the lair, past the small fires and dazed troops. There was laughter, echoing through the halls, all coming from the worst place. 

 

The banana store. 

 

Kohga came to a stop to see the hero standing, in traditional Gerudo gear, with his eyes quirked and at least twenty bananas in hand. He was  _ radiating _ smugness. 

 

“You take my things,” he said, sweetly, like he really was a cute tourist out of his depth, “And I’ll take yours. Come and  _ get me _ .” 

 

And he vanished. A beat of silence rested heavy on the lair. 

 

“So, uh, do we have to steal his wallet next?” 

 

“Magdal,” Kohga groaned, “please stop talking.” 

  
  


So the war began anew. The Yiga would try to kill and/or take whatever spoils the hero had, and in return he would take anything he could from them. Masks, weapons, money,  _ bananas _ \- always with the smile, always with the  _ voice _ and always with the backing of a goddess. It simply wasn’t fair. The number of times the Yiga were drawn out, only to find there was a lynel or a hinox or a stone talus to fight was getting, quite frankly, ridiculous. 

 

Not to mention all the little bits of bad luck. A sudden icy patch in the  _ Faron _ region. Curious rock falls. Nettles biting at their feet. 

 

Kohga had a distinct feeling that, against all odds, the goddess was  _ laughing _ at him. 

 

Either that or the hero had some unknown magical skill. Either way, it was very irritating. Divine blessings coming out the hero’s ass versus ninja. It really wasn’t fair. 

Still. Kohga thought, around the time their banana stocks became dangerously low, it was time to go for the throat and bright out the big guns. 

 

When the moon had vanished and the rain fell in buckets, Master Kohga slipped out of the hideout and followed his senses. The footprints hadn’t filled in yet, leaving a decent trail to where his target may have settled for the night. Under shelter, to be sure, probably a while away from the desert. Night time was a prime time to be attacked, after all, whether by the stals that roamed around come nightfall or by his own troop. He would have to be careful. Who knew where the brat would be? 

 

Kohga crept around, silent, until he found a pinprick of light. A fire. Away from any settlements, with a horse nibbling nearby and a single figure sleeping. 

 

Perfect. He slipped towards the hero, knives bared. It was time to end this game, fun as it may have been. 

 

There would be no more banana competition. 

 

The little brat had even scattered them around the camp, all mighty and yellow and giving Kohga an unwelcome feeling in his belly. The boy was still fast asleep, curled beneath a thick, Rito blanket with crumbs on his face. There were dishes all around, all wafting a wonderfully banana-y smell. 

 

It wouldn’t hurt to take a few bites. Or several bites. Or to finish off the whole banana cake, then start on the simmered fruits and top them with some honey, or even to wonder how the bass and banana could come together so well with chilis and-

 

There were bright, blue eyes staring at him. Kohga’s mask was half off and he was stuffing his face. Link yawned.

 

“Quit stealing all my stuff,” he grumbled, voice slightly rough from sleep, “I was going to fight a lynel with that.” 

 

Kohga was frozen by the gaze, until the hero sat up and yawned at him, once more. He stretched. And stared.

 

The silence fell upon them, harsh and heavy. Kohga swallowed, hard. 

 

“I came to kill you.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“I did it before. I can do it again.” 

 

“Mhm.” He picked up one of the half eaten plates and started to slowly sip his way through the food. Some sort of soupy thing, still full of bananas, but maybe mixed with...nuts? Possibly extra sugar, if Kohga’s nose lead him right. 

 

“That stunt you pulled at the hideout has all my troops in disarray. They want to  _ kill _ you with a little death, if you know what I mean.” 

 

“Mhm. Yeah. That sounds about right.” His eyes started to drift closed again. “Tell them to stop stealing my clothes, I can hardly...sleep...at night…”

 

Kohga waited as Link slowly slid back down to the ground, curling up again with just his head and toes poking out of the blanket. There were soft little snores. The kid probably thought he’d been dreaming, otherwise he’d never have treated it so lightly. At least, Kohga hoped so. There was something depressing about a foe’s glassy eyes when they forgot why they should be afraid. 

 

At least he was a good cook. Kohga licked his fingers and pondered the best way to gut the hero while still keeping the blanket clean. Maybe he was an especially deep sleeper, or perhaps he’d be so tired he wouldn’t fight back...though it’d be a shame to lose all the recipes he’d made up. They were delicious. 

 

Absently, Kohga pulled his mask back down and picked up the bundle of hero, along with his packs of food. It was something to think about back at the hideout, where there were plenty of people to keep the hero still before he decided how to kill him. And apparently he was a deep sleeper, because he didn’t even shift when Kohga threw him over his shoulder. 

 

Nor did he shift when lightning crashed right outside his camp. Kohga jumped, heaving breaths out as the storm came through in full force. Alright, fine. He wasn’t going anywhere yet. Best sit down and wait, near the fire, with the cakes. 

 

Right. 

 

He huffed and sat down, letting Link drop into his lap (because why not, at this point) and snorted. Of course there’d be a storm. Of course there’d be a storm and tasty cakes, and pretty blond hair poking out of a cosy blanket. Of course he’d want to twirl his fingers in it, rub dirt off the hero’s face and-

 

And-

 

“Oh  _ no, _ ” Kohga breathed, pulling his hand back like it had been burnt, “Oh,  _ fuck _ no.” 

 

The unwelcome feeling welled up once more in his belly, bringing out all sorts of uncomfortable thoughts about bananas and melons and skin like fresh milk. Popping cherries and mixing wildberries into pretty things until he was gasping. 

 

The hero mumbled and shifted in the middle of his crisis, stretching a bare arm out- no sleeves, oh god, he was  _ naked  _ under there- to grab a banana. And to sit up, bare chest, meeting the eye of the Yiga with the same stone-faced determination he once turned to the guardians. 

 

Link slowly ate the banana. Piece by piece. Large. Passing through his lips and poking out a little pink tongue until Kohga gave a strained noise somewhere between a moan, a cry and a prayer. The hero’s face split into a grin. It was like watching the ground itself rip apart into an endless white abyss. 

 

“Don’t dish it out,” he said, soft and quiet as his hand pushed up against a  _ very sensitive banana _ , “Unless you can take it, Master Kohga.” 

 

He sucked in a breath as the hero got off his lap, letting the blanket fall from his shoulders like a showgirl in a tavern. He was wearing underpants. Nothing else. A part of Kohga’s anatomy was demanding attention, immediately. 

 

Link was  _ still _ smiling. 

 

“Well, it’s been fun. Seems like you’re suffering from a little death on it’s way, though. Would you like me to kiss it better?” 

 

Master Kohga sputtered, words all vanishing as his blood rushed to his  _ other _ head. The hero was beaming and Kohga suddenly realised  _ exactly _ why his troops had been swooning. 

 

“I don’t offer that to just anyone, you know. I prefer to be sitting back while someone else does all the hard work. But I really appreciate all the effort you’ve gone to.” 

 

There weren’t any words. There weren’t even thoughts. Kohga felt completely and utterly mindless as Link patted his face and gathered up all his items. “I really have to be going. Keep the dressing under wraps and  _ maybe _ I’ll put some effort in the next time we meet up.” 

 

Link kissed one of the many, many bananas and tapped it to his mask. “I’ll be waiting!”

 

The storm abated and out he went. The thoughts crashed back around him all at once, an avalanche of lust and humiliation. Kohga scrambled for his knives, ready to run out of the door, erection and all-

 

Lightning struck. He fell backwards. His cock was screaming, though not as much as his back. 

 

That was it. The kid, and whatever hellish goddess he worshipped that wouldn’t let the storm die, were going  _ down. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> "Lucy are you just writing this so you have an excuse to make shitty genital references?"
> 
> hell fuckin yea i am my dudes


End file.
